


Hesitation

by Ginger_Ninja_405



Category: Shame (2011)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Ice Skating, based on a tumblr ask, dark inconspicious areas away from crowds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 15:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17348024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginger_Ninja_405/pseuds/Ginger_Ninja_405
Summary: Based on a tumblr ask : Brandon finally convinces his co-worker to go on a date with him, too an ice skating rink of all places. She isn't too sure about him, and the fact that she can't skate isn't helping her nerves or confidence. ((probably better than the summary sounds))





	Hesitation

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last of my winter/holiday Fassy asks from my tumblr. I know this isn't the Brandon chapter that most of you were waiting for, but my other multi-chapter (and FAR from PG-13 rated) will be coming soon...hopefully. I hope you enjoy this flirtatious piece of fluff :3

"Well...congratulations, I guess," she mumbled as she worked her feet into the rental skates. "You finally wore me down." After weeks of mostly one-sided flirting, she'd finally given in to the wishes of her co-worker, Brandon. Well, perhaps not his most prominent wishes, but she'd agreed to go on a date with him, in a very public place, and that at least was a start. He was certainly attractive enough, beautiful even if she was being honest with herself, but she'd also accidentally noticed him watching pornography on his phone more than once when he thought no one was around. It didn't exactly scream 'boyfriend material', but...he was charming and more than pleasant to look at, and so she found herself here...at an ice skating rink of all places.

“Do I get a prize for winning,” he asked, tying the laces of his own rented skates, and when she looked over to him, he gave her a wink. She flushed and turned away, tightening the laces of her own skates dramatically and working them up the dangerous shoes methodically.

“I assumed I was the prize,” she answered quietly, quickly looking back to his face when she realized just how that sounded. “That's not what I meant, I'm not saying anything is going to hap-”

He silenced her quick self-correction, reaching toward her face to brush some of her hair behind her ear, running his thumb over the little stud that floated in the middle of the lobe. “Hurry up, before the ice melts.”

“The ice is not going to-” she began in annoyance, but her skates were already tied and without warning he grasped both her hands and pulled her up to her feet, elevated a few inches from the ground on sharp blades. She grabbed his arms immediately, staring down at the floor that managed to feel too far away for her comfort. Brandon glanced at each of his biceps, at the hands grasping him for support and security.

“You can't skate,” he stated bluntly, not even a question. She shook her head in affirmation, continuing to stare at the linoleum floor, dreading the icy one that would soon replace it under her feet.

“I haven't done this since I was in middle school,” she finally answered. “And I slipped on icy concrete a few years ago and broke my elbow. That kind of took any desire to learn again out of me.”

Brandon considered the situation as he looked her over, her face still hidden from him. This might work out even better than he'd hoped. “Well...I guess you'll just have to hold on to me extra tight. If you fall, we both fall. I'm sure you don't want that on your conscience.”

“You don't really think I care if you fall-”

“Come on,” he quickly removed her hands from his arms, and slipped one of his hands into her smaller one. She hesitated briefly, but seeing no way out of it at this point, followed him nervously toward the entrance, onto the ice.

* * *

“This is ridiculous,” she sighed to herself, grasping both of Brandon's hands as he skated backwards, facing her the whole time. Her instinct had been to stay along the edge and cling to the metal railing that lined the wall, but he would have none of that. She'd already fallen twice, not enough to hurt anything but her ego thankfully, but it wasn't helping her confidence. Having this gorgeous man no more than a few feet from her, holding her hands the whole time, watching her with his beautiful eyes was not helping. She felt like a school girl, trying and failing to avoid her crush. Well, she didn't feel completely like a school girl. There was nothing innocent or childlike about this man before her, closer to predatory in her mind.

“I think you're getting better,” he attempted to compliment her, but when he realized she was distracted in her own thoughts, he began to pull his hands from hers slowly. As soon as she realized what was happening, her hands immediately reached out to him again, grasping at his woolen coat as he chuckled at her. She couldn't even look him in the eyes, the whole situation was so embarrassing. What had she done to bring Karma to punish her like this, humiliating her endlessly in front of the most handsome man in the office. His hands and arms, now free from her grasp, carefully worked at his scarf, dragging it from around his neck and bringing it over his date's head and down her back to hover behind her waist, tightening it until it was taut but comfortable. “I said, I think you're getting better. You haven't fallen in,” he glanced at his watch, “fifteen minutes. You'll be able to skate on your own soon.” He wanted to take it back as soon as he'd said it, he didn't want her skating on her own. He liked her this way, reliant on him for safety, clinging to him.

“Doubtful,” she whispered, but her grip loosened slightly on his coat.

Brandon looked down to her hands on him, brows knitted together in thought. “Would you like to take a break?”

She looked over to the wall, noticing the opening coming into view, and nodded quickly. The two made their way carefully toward the gap in the wall, the young woman giving a sigh of relief when her blades met substantially less slick flooring. She hadn't realized she was still clutching onto Brandon's coat. Brandon had noticed. He placed one of his large hands over her smaller ones and pulled it carefully away from the wool fabric, grasping it softly. “Let's go sit down, give your feet a rest.” She sucked her bottom lip for a moment, glancing several feet away to the benches that made up the rest area. Everyone else seemed to be out on the ice, and some of the lights in the sitting area were out, making it...uncomfortably dark. Before she could vocally protest, however, she found herself being guided toward the ill-lit area.

Brandon reached the wooden benches first, little more than planks of wood elevated from the floor without any kind of back rest, and chose to straddle the surface. His date stared down at him suspiciously, but he ignored her reaction, patting the wooden seating with one hand in front of him. When she sat down in a more normal fashion next to him, sitting on the bench as it was intended to be used, he shook his head, gesturing to one of her feet. “How do they feel? Are you sore at all?”

She hesitated before answering. She knew he was plotting something, she just wasn't sure what. “I guess. I'm sure I'll have blisters before we're done.”

“Let me see,” he answered casually. She cast a somewhat untrusting gaze at him before leaning forward, beginning to work the laces. When she'd removed both of the heavy, bladed shoes, she began to turn a little on the bench, scooting a bit further away from him but bringing one foot up to rest of the wooden surface. Brandon carefully took the foot in his hand, slowly dragging off the thick sock, once again ignoring her protest when she tried to pull her foot away. When she sighed but stopped attempting to escape his hands, he began to carefully massage, asking periodically if anything hurt, always receiving a “no” in response, though her voice became increasingly quieter as he continued to work carefully at her.

“You're, um...” she began, watching his hands as he gestured for her to give him access to her other foot,” you're pretty good at that.”

Brandon smirked, dragging off the other sock and beginning to knead at the tender flesh. It was embarrassing for her, letting him touch her somewhere so generally undesirable, but he showed no hesitation, no distaste or negative emotion of any kind. She became almost transfixed as she watching his large, strong hands move over her so pleasantly, slowly working up her ankle, her calf, the back of her knee. She flinched and finally pulled away when his fingers swept over the sensitive skin there, and began to separate herself from him but he didn't let go. “I'm good at other things, too,” he finally answered in a low voice, grasping her legs and adjusting them so that she straddled the bench as well, drawing closer to her. She felt almost in a daze as he carefully took hold of her legs, practically wrapping them around his own waist as he drew her even closer. His hands finally reached for her waist, encircling her in his arms and drawing unintelligible designs on her own coat as he waited for her to react. “Would you like to find out what else I'm good at,” he asked almost in a whisper, lowering his face toward hers when she finally began to lift her eyes to his. She ignored his question, at least for the moment, as she finally felt his lips take over her own. Maybe ice skating wasn't so terrible after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/kudos are always appreciated. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this and would like to see a much more, um, *mature* take on Brandon, please check out my other Brandon story, "Dirty Laundry" :)


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